At least once a day, one of my daughters will come to me and ask for help buttoning a , tying a shoe, or putting a ribbon into their hair. Almost every time they do, they will turn and stand several feet from me, far out of my reach.
“I can’t help you unless you come close,” I’ll say, and help them move into my lap, or close to my legs so that I can reach whatever they need assistance with.
A while ago, that phrase hung in my mouth for a minute, and I realized how true it was for me, in two ways:
First, this:
I have trouble asking for help or even admitting I need it. Needing help puts me in someone’s debt.
I have trouble letting people come close enough to see me vulnerable and in need.
And this:
Sometimes, I get weary with the demands of parenting. There’s always another ribbon to tied, a lunch to make, a spoon, a piece of paper, the spelling of a princess’ name. Sometimes, I love giving all that help. But sometimes, I want just a few minutes alone to think without answering any questions.
And yet: this constant need, this asking for help is the marker of a great connection and closeness between my daughters and me. My oldest needs my help far less than she used to, and I’ve realized sometimes that means I hold her, embrace her, pick her up, or hug her less than I do my youngest. Being present to help means that closeness comes right on the heels of need, of serving, of doing-for.
A friend of mine just finished a few-month stint caring for an elderly relative. It was a challenging time; her relationship with that relative is sometimes fraught. There were a lot of demands on her energy. She had to stay vigilant to make sure her charge kept safe.
When her caregiving ended, she expected to feel relief and freedom. But instead, she felt a little at odds with herself. She felt the loss of purpose, of direction, and of usefulness.
This desire to be CLOSE is deeply woven into our hearts. I sometimes forget how urgent it is for me to both give that kind of care–and receive it.
The most powerful culture in the world
I struggle with getting close to people, being vulnerable. I’ve been inching my way closer to some ladies, and the closer I get the better it feels. 🙂
Thank you for sharing this with us, Esther. Taking the risk of needing others is so scary! But when I have managed to depend on friends and family the rewards have been enormous.
Oh I often said the very same thing to my little girls. And how reading this post makes me think how often God asked the same thing of me, when I need help “please dear daughter come close to me”
thanks you for these beautiful words today
Much love
Renee
Oh, absolutely, Renee. I can imagine God beckoning all of us closer, with warmth and affection 🙂
lovely xo
Thank you for your sweet encouragement, Lori!
“I have trouble asking for help. I have trouble admitting I need it.”
Yes, this!
Thanks, Jennifer. I know I’m not the only one that struggles with this–it seems so common among the moms I know.
I just love this, Heather. I’m excited to be reading your blog regularly now, and look forward to working together more at The Happiest Home, too! xo, Sarah
Aw, thanks, Sarah! I’m so glad you’re reading, too, and I’m really excited about collaborating with you guys. I’m amazed at the opportunities there are on the Web to CREATE and LEARN from other people, and meet them, too. Yes, it’s virtual, but it’s so powerful!